


Canary II:  Uncharted Waters

by Jael, pir8grl



Series: Voyages of the Canary [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/pseuds/Jael, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pir8grl/pseuds/pir8grl
Summary: The crew of the Canary joins in a mission to conceal a mystical artifact from Damien Darhk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In memory of Alexandra Hastings, teacher, friend, and artist. You are missed - and I think you would have enjoyed an adventure aboard the Canary.

  **Port Royal, Jamaica, Spring 1692**

The first time Leonard Snart had seen Sara Lance, she’d reminded him of the sea - beautiful, and deadly, with unseen strengths and secrets. He’d come to recognize her as one of the strongest and bravest people he’d ever known. Now, though, laughing in the sunshine, with warm breezes stirring her light muslin dress and the vivid flowers he’d tucked into her hair, all he could see was beauty.

“Does Jamaica live up to your expectations?” he murmured in her ear.

“Mmm. More than.” She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes, her expression a combination of sultry and mischievous and just plain **_Sara._** “The company’s not so bad, either.” She ran her finger lightly inside the open collar of his linen shirt, then pressed her hands to his chest for balance and stretched up on her toes for a kiss.

“So…how long do we intend to stay here?” he asked after a long and pleasant moment. Their little display there outside the open-air market hadn't occasioned so much as a whistle from passersby on this seaside street. Well, Port Royal had seen much more extravagant...displays.

“I haven’t decided yet." Sara took a step back and grinned at him. "Too long in port can make a crew soft.”

 ** _“Your_** crew?” Leonard scoffed.

“Even them,” Sara said, with a soft chuckle. She caught one of his hands and kissed it before pulling his arm around her.

Leonard was more than happy to oblige, pulling her slender body back against his chest and resting his chin on top of her head.

“What about you?” Sara asked. “Isn’t this a bit…quiet for you?”

“Right now, it seems just about perfect.”

And then he felt Sara stiffen in his arms. He glanced down at her, concerned, then tried to follow her gaze, but all he saw was a flash of a dark-clad figure, vanishing around a corner.

“Sara? What is it? What’s wrong?”

She pulled away from him. “We have to round up the crew and go, now.”

Leonard caught her arm before she could get more than a step away. “Wait. What’s going on?”

She swung around to look at him, and the woman who’d been so soft and pliant in his arms was gone, replaced by the pirate captain with the iron will. “We need to find the crew and weigh anchor. **_Now._** Keep up, or be left behind.”

* * *

Sara moved quickly through the cabin, grabbing a shirt and breeches - at this point, she didn’t even care if they were hers or Leonard’s. She just needed her work clothes, and not this damn dress. She heard the door open, and turned to see him lounging in the door frame, arms crossed.

“Mind telling me what just happened out there?”

“I told you, we need to leave.”

“You did. What you didn’t tell me was why.”

“My ship, my rules. You don’t like it, get out.”

Snart’s eyes turned flinty and he stalked into the room. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant.”

Sara turned to face him, and he was scared by how pallid and desperate her expression was.

“Sara, please…whatever is going on, just tell me. I’ll help, I promise.”

Sara exhaled sharply, and all the energy seemed to drain out of her. “I’ve told you, there are things in my past…dangerous things. And I think I just saw one of them in port.”

“Fine. Tell me what we’re running from. That’s all I ask. Sara, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You say that now,” she muttered, scrabbling with the laces on the back of her dress.

Her hands were shaking so badly that Leonard thought she might tear the dainty material, so he stepped forward to help her, though not in the enjoyable manner that he’d been picturing in his mind’s eye all day. She let the dress and petticoats pool at her feet and reached blindly for the striped linen shirt she’d found - his, as it happened.

“If you want to help,” she said quietly, “please just round up the others and get ready to make sail.”

“All right.”

* * *

**Out to Sea  
**

Snart stepped up beside Mick and leaned his arms on the rail. “Why am I the only one surprised at our sudden departure?” he asked conversationally.

Mick stared out at the waves obdurately. “There ain’t much that scares the cap’n, so when she says ‘run,’ I run.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. It ain’t the first time it’s happened, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Look Snart, if you can’t handle it -”

“I didn’t say that, Mick. I’m just trying to understand. Sara is the bravest person I’ve ever met, and she just turned and ran from a - a shadow.”

“If she hadn’t seen that shadow, we might not be here to be running, is all I’m saying.”

Snart straightened abruptly, eyeing something far ahead. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to a dark smudge on the horizon.

Mick whistled sharply and Amaya looked over from her place at the wheel. “You're faster than me. Go up top and tell me what that is,” he said, pointing.

She nodded sharply and began climbing the rigging as Mick took the wheel.

Amaya shimmied into the crow’s nest and snatched up the spyglass. “Two ships,” she called down. “One’s taking heavy fire. She won’t stay afloat much longer.”

“Snart!” Mick bellowed as he rapidly reset their course.

Snart nodded once, then headed below, calling for the captain.

* * *

The burning ship was reduced to floating wreckage by the time the Canary arrived. Their attacker was long gone. Mick manned the oars of the long boat, while Snart carefully pushed aside pieces of debris with a boat hook. Sara steered the ship carefully through the flotsam. She’d sent Sin below with strict orders to stay there until someone fetched her. No need for the child to see this. Martin Stein stood in the bow of the ship, quietly reading a prayer for the dead.

“Ahoy!” Mick bellowed.

“Friend or foe?” a weak voice gasped.

“Friend, you jackass,” Mick muttered. “Woulda just shot you, otherwise.”

“Ah. Spoken like a true gentleman,” the man with the English accent muttered as Snart hauled him out of the sea. “Have you any water?”

Snart passed him a leather bota, and the man nodded his thanks before drinking greedily.

“Rip Hunter, captain of the Waverider,“ he introduced himself. “Have you found anyone else?”

Both men shook their heads negatively.

“Might I try? My crew might be a bit skittish, you understand.”

Snart shrugged and made a ‘help yourself’ gesture.

The other man took a deep breath and called out: “Ahoy there! It’s Hunter! Anyone?”

“Here!” a voice called.

Snart pointed, and Mick turned the boat toward a somewhat larger piece of wreckage with two huddled figures clinging to it. Hunter and Snart assisted a dark-skinned man and a blond woman to clamber aboard.

“Charles. Courtney. Any sign of Henry?” Hunter asked urgently.

“No, sir,” the man called Charles replied.

“And your…?”

“Safe, sir.” The woman nodded a quick response.

"Let's get them back to the Canary," Snart suggested to Mick. "Then you and I can come back and check for any more survivors."

* * *

Sara entered the galley in search of their new guests. “What the hell is that?” she demanded, pointing to the bright green bird perched on Mick’s shoulder, “and why is it on my ship?”

“Souvenir,” Mick said with a careless shrug as he dished up some soup.

“Pretty lady!” the parrot announced.

Sin giggled, and Sara glared before turning her attention to the bedraggled man huddled in a blanket.

“Captain Hunter,” Sara greeted him, as Mick handed him a mug of broth.

“Captain Lance. We are most grateful for your assistance.”

“You’re welcome. Can you tell me anything about the ship that attacked you?”

“The captain was enormously strong and behaved like a madman. He and his men wore masks, half black, half orange. They were terrifying.”

“Slade Wilson,” Sara replied knowingly. “You’re lucky any of you survived.” She noticed Sin looking a bit wide-eyed. “Sin, there’s some fishing nets on deck that need mending. Hop to it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The girl scampered away.

“Where were you bound?” Sara asked, turning back to the other captain.

“No place in particular,” Hunter replied evasively.

“Pardon?”

The Englishman sighed, then looked to his companions. “Captain, it seems I have no choice but to trust you. My companions and I have been entrusted with protecting an ancient relic called the Spear of Destiny.”

“How astonishing!” Martin exclaimed. “The spear that some say pierced the side of Jesus of Nazareth! I always thought it was merely a story.”

“I assure you, sir, it is very real. And very dangerous. We were entrusted with hiding the Spear, so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. Have you perchance heard of a person called Damien Darhk?”

“Yes,” Snart replied, in a clipped tone. “And I’d say he’s the wrong hands for just about anything.”

“Well, in this we are agreed. It was determined that the best way to hide the Spear was to break it into four pieces, and scatter them across the earth. One went to the bottom with our compatriot, Henry. We hold the three remaining pieces.”

“Forgive me for asking this,” Martin began diffidently, “but why didn’t you simply drop the artifacts overboard, once you realized that your ship was going down?”

“Because then they would all have been in more or less the same place,” Hunter replied.

“Well, yes. That place being the bottom of the ocean.”

Hunter shook his head. “You don’t understand. The Spear of Destiny is simply too powerful. It **_wants_** to be found. The four pieces must be separated, as far apart as is in our power to do so. The same continent - even the bottom of the same ocean would be too close.”

The members of the Canary's crew exchanged dubious looks at that declaration.

“So, you’re asking me to maroon you?” Sara asked, wondering if this man was suffering from some form of sea madness.

“That is exactly what I’m asking, Captain Lance. Me, and my two surviving companions, three separate islands, as far apart as can be managed.” He pointed to a chart that was tacked to the wall. “For instance, there seem to be several likely candidates here, in the North China Sea.”

“No,” Sara replied automatically.

“Why not? They seem quite remote. Surely one of them -”

“Not if you want your secret locations to remain secret. Slade Wilson? The man who sank your ship? He operates out of those islands.”

“Wilson may be just a common brigand, but he’s not the sort you want to get hold of anything with any sort of power. Even though he doesn’t have magic of his own, he wouldn’t be above selling it to the highest bidder,” Snart explained.

“Ah. Very well,” Hunter replied. “I place myself in your very capable hands then.”

Sara glanced at Snart, then sucked in a deep breath. “Captain Hunter, I just need to be sure that you and your friends understand what you’re asking. If we succeed - “

The tall blonde woman stepped forward. “We will be stranded, with no hope of rescue. We will die protecting the Spear. We understand. We’ve dedicated our lives to this mission. We have no families, no one left behind. This is our choice.”

Sara met her eyes with respect. “All right then.”


	2. Chapter 2

**The North Atlantic, Summer 1692**

Sara looked up from her charts as Snart entered the cabin, carefully closing the door behind him. “I was thinking about this chain of islands here, past Baffin Island, for one of the drop-off points. What do you think?"

He glanced briefly at the map. “I think it’s about as far as you can get from Jamaica. Want to tell me exactly what it is we’re running from?”

“We’re trying to help Captain Hunter -"

“No.” He laid a hand over hers. “What are **_we_** running from?”

Sara tried to pull her hand away, but Leonard just curled his fingers gently around hers.

Her eyes hardened. “Just because I let you sleep in here -” she began heatedly.

“Hey! That’s not what this is about. That’s never what this has been about. I’m here because I want to be with you. Whatever’s going on, I want to help, but I can’t do that if you won’t tell me anything.” He softened his voice a bit. “We’ve all got secrets - hell, you met one of the worst of mine. And then you watched me kill him. You stayed by me for that, well…I’m not going anywhere.”

Sara didn’t reply, and after a long moment, Leonard sighed and released her hand.

* * *

“Enter!” Sara called in response to the knock on her cabin door. She and Mick looked up from their charts as Captain Hunter and his two companions ducked into the cabin. “We think we’ve got your first destination,” she said, turning the chart so Hunter could see it.

“Baffin Island?”

“I can get you at least that far,” Sara replied. “I’d say those smaller islands farther north might be most suitable, but the Davis Strait is notoriously shallow. The Canary is very light, but I’m not entirely sure how far we can go without risking the ship.”

“Understood,” Hunter replied thoughtfully.

“Do you?” Mick pressed. “This is a death sentence, sure as a noose around your neck.”

“It always was, Mister Rory.”

“Well, it will take us a while to get there,” Sara said decisively. “You’ll have time to decide which of you will be staying.”

“Me, I think,” the big man called Charles said quietly.

“Are you sure?” Hunter asked.

Charles nodded.

“All right,” Sara said with a sigh. “Mick, have Amaya keep us sailing due north. You and I have some work to do.”

* * *

Leonard stirred in his sleep as the cabin door opened. He knew the cadence of Sara’s movements, and didn’t completely wake--at least, not until she slipped into the bunk behind him and curled against his back. She rested her forehead against his shoulder blade and laid one small hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the darkness.

That was all it took for Leonard to roll over, smoothly lifting his arm to wrap it around Sara’s shoulders and tuck her into his side.

* * *

Martin gazed around the deck irritably. “Sin!” he called. “Lessons!”

No movement. No whisper. No cabin girl. 

“Sin!” Mick roared.

With a sigh, the girl appeared from her hiding spot behind some barrels. **_No one_** could pretend not to have heard Mick.

“Come along, now,” Martin said.

“Don’t see why,” the girl muttered.

“Because I say so, that’s why,” Sara stated, straightening from where she'd been coiling some rope and eyeing her young charge with a raised eyebrow.

Sin squirmed, not having seen the captain. Her expression, however, stayed vaguely mutinous.

“I want you to have choices in life,” Sara said, in a softer tone.

“Why? I don't want choices!  I want to stay here!”

“Say that’s so. What use have I for an uneducated urchin in my crew?” Sara waited a beat, then turned to Amaya and spoke in an unfamiliar language.

Amaya replied in kind, then retrieved the sextant and began taking sightings.

Catching on, Snart (who'd just happened upon this little drama) carefully smothered a smirk and began conversing with Nate about the exchange rates of various currencies. Sara casually asked Mick a question about wind velocity and he answered smartly.

Sin fixed them all with an even more rebellious glare, then turned and followed Martin below.

“Thank you all,” Sara said, grinning.

“Thanks fer asking me something I could answer,” Mick muttered.

“You know,” Sara said quietly, “I’m sure Martin would be happy to teach you anything you’d like.”

“I ain’t got the brains for book learning.”

“Yes, you do,” Amaya said with sudden fierce protectiveness.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to argue with her,” Snart muttered, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "And she's right."

* * *

**The Davis Strait**

“Sin! Come here!” Mick called.

“What is it, Mister Rory?” The girl's footsteps pattered up on deck behind them, slowing as she drew closer.

“Come look,” Amaya invited with a smile, turning to beckon.

The crew was bundled up against the chill of the sub-Arctic ‘summer’, but Sin looked particularly amusing, wrapped in someone’s far-too-large woolen workshirt.

Mick, turning and holding out his arms, boosted the girl up so she could see over the rail.

“What are they?” she asked, smiling delightedly at the chubby white creatures frolicking in the water.

“Beluga whales,” Mick told her.

“Some people call them the ‘canaries of the sea,’” Amaya added.

“Look! There’s little ones,” Sin shouted, pointing.

“It’s calving season,” Martin supplied in his ‘lecturing‘ voice as he walked up behind them.

Sin dimmed, expecting a call to lessons, but Sara smiled and laid a hand on the professor’s arm.

“Let her watch them.”

The professor lifted an eyebrow at her, then smiled. "Of course. Observation is, after all, educational." 

* * *

A few hours later, Sin was at the rail, now kneeling on a barrel left there as a boost and engaged in her current favorite pastime of watching the whales, when she suddenly cried out in dismay. Mick hurried over to see what was wrong, and swiftly lifted her away from the rail, turning so her view was shielded. Amaya glanced over his shoulder, then quickly took Sin’s hand and hustled her below.

“What’s going on?“ Sara called, from her place at the tiller.

“Whalers,” Mick spat, disgustedly.

Sara jerked her head at Jefferson, and he stepped over to take her place. She looked out at the spreading red stain on the water with an expression that boded no good for the perpetrators of the carnage.

“Captain, I do hope you aren’t considering any…hasty action,” Hunter said quietly, coming up behind her. “I don’t care for it either, but they are engaged in legitimate commerce.” He caught her sleeve. “And we have more pressing matters to attend to.”

Sara looked coldly at the hand on her arm, then back up to Hunter’s face. He dropped his hand immediately.

“Legitimate or not, I don’t hold with slaughtering beautiful, intelligent creatures just for a few parts and then leaving them to rot.”

“You don’t strike me as someone with an aversion to killing.”

“I don’t,” Sara said in a frigid tone. “I have an aversion to **_needless_** killing. Something you might want to be grateful for, right about now.”

She turned and stalked away from him, shoulders set. Anyone who knew her would read the anger there...and, wisely, Hunter didn't press the subject as she left. 

* * *

Within the hour, Martin wandered up on deck for some air, pointedly looking away from the view afforded over the rail.

“How’s Sin?” Sara asked from her spot by the tiller, although Mick was manning it at the moment. She was leaning comfortably against Snart, a rare moment of visible affection between the pair, although the crew wisely chose to ignore it.

“I set her some reading, which probably means she’s playing with the parrot, or taking a nap.”

That earned smiles from the group clustered around the tiller.

“I wonder, sometimes, if this is really the best life for her,” Martin pondered with a sigh, glancing briefly out at the sea, then away. "It can be so...harsh."

“So do I,” Sara admitted, “but she’s already lost one family. I don’t want to take her away from another. Raymond did offer to keep her in London.”

“Really?” Martin asked, surprised. “Wouldn’t people assume that she was a…well…”

“It’s not really such a stigma in a big city like London, especially not among people as wealthy as the Palmers,” Snart assured him, a smirk flickering at the edges of his smile at the professor's discomposure.

“And I think Sin’s a bit old to be taken for Raymond’s natural daughter. I expect people would believe whatever he told them,” Sara added.

Mick sniggered. “Besides, who’d ever think he had the…” His voice trailed off at a sharp glance from Sara.

Snart couldn’t quite restrain himself. “Come on, Sara. You **_have_** met Raymond.”

"I have." She couldn't resist, although her tone turning teasing. "He's a gentleman. Unlike _some_ rogues I could name." 

"Mmmm." Snart's arm tightened around her. "You _like_ rogues..." 

MIck sighed. "All right, you two," he said with resignation. "Take it below. That was the agreement when all this...stuff...started on board." 

Sara, childishly, stuck her tongue out at him. Snart made a different gesture. 

* * *

“Pretty lady!” the parrot squawked as Sara entered the galley. She glared at it irritably as she shrugged out of her heavy wool coat.

Captain Hunter and his companions looked up. They‘d mostly kept to themselves, though they did offer to work for their passage. Sara, with no clear idea of their abilities--and a little native skepticism--hadn't taken them up on the offer.

“Are we nearly there?” Hunter asked.

“Just about. Our destination is Alikdjuak Island. It’s as far north as I can get you, without getting closed in by ice. Are you certain about this?” Sara asked, directing her attention to Charles. She’d be damned if anyone were pressed into a decision like this without their consent. Not on her watch.

As if reading her thoughts, the big man smiled gently. “I’ve dedicated my life to this, Captain. I’ll be fine.”

Sara sighed. “We can’t afford to leave you with much in the way of supplies, but there’s plenty of game…at least, in summer.” She didn't add that he likely wouldn't last the winter. She didn't have to - she could see the weight of that knowledge in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Captain,” Charles repeated.

And that was that. 

* * *

Captain Hunter and Mistress Courtney stood at the Canary’s stern, watching until the island where they’d left Charles was out of sight. Then they turned sadly and went below decks.

“I don’t like this,” Snart confided, leaning over just a bit to speak into Sara's ear from where they remained at the rail.

“Neither do I,” Sara agreed, “but it’s their mission…their choice. And we discussed this. Anything Damien Darhk wants to get his hands on needs to be protected. You know that better than most.”

“Yeah. But we might as well have put a musket ball in his head and had done with it. If the wolves don’t get him, the winter will. I don’t like it.”

“And I **_really_** don’t like that,” Sara said, looking past him, out to sea.

Snart turned and saw two ships moving to intercept them as they headed back into the strait.

“Mick!” Sara yelled, “Put some distance between us! Martin, take Sin and go below. Leonard, Nate - muskets.”

The crew scattered to obey her orders.

“What kind of ships are those?” Hunter asked, having come up on deck when he heard the commotion.

“This far out? Could be anything,” Sara replied.

“Including Damien Darhk.”

“If we start dodging lightning bolts, then we’ll know it’s him.” Sara raised her spyglass and studied the oncoming ships. “Mick, remember how we got away from Slade Wilson that time?”

“Aye, cap’n.” Mick spun the wheel, and the ship began to pick up speed, heading towards the attackers.

“Are you mad?” Hunter demanded. “Those ships have cannons!”

“We’re lighter and faster,” Sara replied. “Leonard, Nate, see what you can do about those gun crews. Captain Hunter, grab a musket and be useful, or go below.”

Musket balls began to fly across the deck.

“Someone take care of those sharpshooters!” Sara ordered.

Hunter obliged, setting a musket to his shoulder and aiming for a gunner on one of the rapidly approaching ships. Sara’s tactic bought them a moment of surprise, as the captains of the enemy vessels tried to adjust the course of their heavy sluggish ships. The Canary shot through the rapidly closing space and the other ships collided with a harsh crack of splintering timbers.

Sara drew in a breath of relief, and grinned - and then felt her heart freeze in her chest.

“Captain!” Nate called urgently. He stood supporting Leonard, whose shirt was soaked through with blood.

“Get him below and find Martin. Jefferson, reload those muskets - we might need them again.”

“Captain, if you want to -” Hunter began diffidently.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” Sara informed him in a deadly calm voice. “Right now, I need to make sure that the ship is secure and there are no more surprises waiting for us.”

She paused. "Actually... and then I actually might get something I want. Mick!" 

* * *

Not long later, Hunter stared, appalled, at the cloud of greasy black smoke rising from the whaling ship. “That was unnecessary,” he ground out from between gritted teeth.

“I disagree,” Sara replied, eyeing him coolly.

“They’re not the ones who attacked us!”

“But it’ll provide a suitable distraction for us to get away before those other ships get themselves disentangled. I protected my ship, and your mission. If you don’t like it - start swimming.”

Hunter, wisely, shut up. And stayed on board. 

* * *

A bit later, once the dust...and the smoke... had cleared, Sara entered her cabin with a length of clean linen slung over her shoulder and a pail of warm water in her hands. Martin and Nate were just cleaning up, piling bits of bloody bandages and surgical tools into a spattered basin.

“He’ll be fine, Sara,” Martin said gently. “I removed the bullet and stitched the wound. He may be rather incoherent. We gave him a good bit of rum so he’d be able to tolerate the pain.”

Sara nodded absently, her eyes fixed on the man in her bunk. The man that she…loved. There; she’d thought it, even if she was nowhere near ready to actually say the word. She dimly heard the door shut behind the two scholars.

Leonard lay on his side, with a sheet drawn up to his hips and a swath of bandages wrapped just below his ribs. He was either asleep or unconscious, breathing easily, but with lines of pain marring his handsome features.

Sara perched on the edge of the bunk and set her pail on the floor. She added a couple drops of her precious lavender oil to the contents of the pail and wrung out a piece of linen in the warm, fragrant water. She ran the soft cloth over his face with feather-light touches, then pressed a kiss to his temple.

Working gently, so as not to wake him or cause any pain, Sara moved her cloth over Leonard’s neck and shoulders, down to his chest. She carefully sponged away sweat, grime, and the occasional spatter of blood that Martin and Nate had missed, working her way down to the bandages. The oldest scars on Leonard’s body had been caused by his own father, and Sara indulged herself, laying gentle kisses on them.

She leaned across him to reach his back with the damp cloth, then pressed her forehead to his shoulder. Just for a moment - she told herself. Gods, but she was tired. And startled, when Leonard’s hand landed lightly on her waist.

“Pretty lady,” he slurred.

Sara smiled without lifting her head, and a couple of tears dropped onto Leonard‘s skin. “Did you teach the damn bird to say that?”

“S’tru,” he insisted. “How come you got clos…an’ I don’t?” he added, peering at her owlishly.

“You’re hurt, Leonard,” Sara informed him, “and very, very drunk.” She caught his hand, which had begun to wander, and brought it to her lips. “You need to rest, love.”

“D’you jus’…?”

“I said you need to rest,” Sara repeated firmly, cheeks flaming.

There was a quiet tap at the door. “Cap’n?” Mick’s gruff voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

“Yes, Mick?”

“Me an’ Amaya got this watch, if you want to catch some sleep.”

Sara smiled crookedly, thankful that Mick had the good sense to call through the closed door. “Thanks, Mick. Come get me if you need me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sara stood and discarded her heavy wool clothing, then slid into the bunk, trying to arrange herself around the injured man. She ended up more or less sitting against the wall, with Leonard’s head snuggled into her lap, and one of his arms thrown across her legs. She tenderly stroked one hand over his close-shorn hair, while the other tried to restrain the hand that he kept trying to slip under the edge of her shirt. She quickly gave it up as a lost cause, and surrendered herself to the gentle motion of his fingers against her bare skin, proof that he was alive and here, with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Indian Ocean, Autumn 1692**

The cabin was dark and still, with the gentle slap of waves against the hull to lull them. But Sara was awake, huddled with her arms wrapped around her legs, and her cheek resting on her knees.

“Sara?” Leonard asked, voice rough with sleep. He'd woken alone, casting about almost involuntarily in search of the warm form he'd become so used to sharing a bed with, jarring from slumber when it became apparent she wasn't there.

She didn’t look at him, just stared across the darkened room. “The Queen’s Gambit never made it to Jamaica. She went down in a wicked storm. To this day, I don’t know how I wasn’t pulled under. I was…I won’t call it rescued. I was picked up by a ship called the Amazo.”

Leonard saw a shudder wrack her diminutive frame, and anger began to boil in his veins, understanding what wasn’t being said aloud.

“The ship was attacked and sunk in the North China Sea. The second time I should have died. I woke up on the beach on Lian Yu. It was the dry season…no fresh water, nothing to eat, even if I had the means to catch anything. I was alone, and starving.

“One day, a ship sailed into the bay. It was light and swift, like nothing I’d ever seen before. It was captained by a woman named Nyssa. She did rescue me. She took me to Nanda Parbat, to her father, who commands the League of Assassins. They took me in, healed me, trained me…”

“And you loved her.”

It wasn’t a question. There was knowledge in his voice, strong and certain.

Sara twisted her head slightly to try and see his face in the dimness. “Does that shock you?”

“No.”

She stared, unable to see more than the glint of his eyes.

“I think that the world is a hard place, and when it offers us a bit of comfort or…love…we should welcome it, and the hell with what anyone else thinks.”

“Do you, really?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He sat up against the wall and held out his arms. “Come here.”

With a sigh, Sara nestled into his embrace.

“You know, I was almost happy, at first. I had a place where I fit in, where no one scolded me that ’young ladies don’t do things like that.’ I had Nyssa, and the League taught me well…I’d never be a victim, ever again. But…the killing…it started to eat me up, inside. I’ve done things…”

Leonard just wrapped his arms more tightly around Sara, anchoring her to the present. The steady beat of his heart calmed her.

“Was it Nyssa you thought you saw in Port Royal? And LeHavre, at Christmastide?”

“Maybe. I don’t know," Sara murmured into his neck. "I betrayed her, when I left the League. Even if she could forgive that, she’s honor-bound to bring me back. Staying two steps ahead of anyone who even looks like the League…it‘s how I've stayed alive and free.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“You are the strongest and bravest person I’ve ever met,” Leonard told her with one of his rare moments of utter sincerity.

Sara shook her head, but the gesture spoke more of weariness than any true denial.

“If I won’t go willingly, the League has ways…they’ll hurt the people I care about," she whispered.

“Yeah, well. I’m not going anywhere without a fight.”

“It might well be a fight you can’t win.”

“I have a great deal of incentive.”

* * *

Sara was up on deck early the next morning, staff in hand, thinking to work through some exercises to center herself. As it turned out, she wasn’t the only one with that thought. “Mistress Courtney,” she said, by way of greeting, nodding.

“Captain,” the other woman replied, with a nod. She indicated the staff in her hand. “I hope you don’t mind - my own staff went down with the Waverider. Mister Rory gave me this one from your armory.”

“I was actually going to suggest giving you lessons,” Sara admitted. “The staff is a good weapon for a woman. When we get you to your destination, we‘ll be sure to leave you with a couple of spares.”

“Thank you, Captain Lance. Would you care to join me?”

“Why not?” Sara agreed, with a ferocious grin. "So... have at it!"

Sara was a more powerful fighter, but Courtney knew some tricks that the other woman didn't. A long and rousing practice session later, the two women were comparing training notes when they were finally interrupted.

“Cap’n, come look at this!” Mick called.

Sara stepped quickly to the rail and accepted the spyglass from her first mate. She focused the glass and took a long look, then swore and slapped it back into Mick‘s hand.

“People, we’ve got a storm coming. Looks bad, so get everything lashed down. Sin, put away anything loose in the cabins and the galley.”

“I can help with that,” Courtney volunteered.

Sara nodded and the woman went below.

“How long do you estimate before the storm is upon us?” Hunter asked. He'd come up for some air and stayed to take in the sight of the two formidable fighters in their element.

“Not long,” Sara told him grimly. She could already feel the breeze picking up, and could only hope they'd have enough time to prepare. Turning, she caught sight of Snart, emerging from below decks and giving her a questioning gaze.

Although she knew that he'd made it his business to explore every inch of the ship, and learn as much as he could from the crew, storms like this could rattle the nerve of the most experienced sailor. And then there was the matter of a recently healed musket wound. Still, they needed all the help they could could get. She hesitated only a moment, then nodded to him. He nodded soberly back and they fell into prepping the ship side by side, as if they'd been doing this together for years.

* * *

 The Canary's crew knew its business. They had the ship just about as ready as it could be when the storm finally struck, with a howl of a wind and a sudden, fierce lash of rain onto the deck. 

The ship pitched sharply, and Sara’s feet flew out from under her. Snart made a grab for her, but the ship’s momentum threw him on top of her, his greater weight slamming her into some crates that were lashed in place. The wood splintered with a sickening crack.

Sara looked up at him dazedly, then tried to push herself to her feet. Snart hauled her free of the splintered wood.

“We need to…” she began, then trailed off, eyes unfocused.

“Sara?” Snart said urgently. His hands were supporting her back, and he began to feel a sticky wetness soaking through her shirt. “Come on, we need to get you below.”

She shook her head - then turned an interesting shade of green. “The ship -”

“Captain Lance,” Hunter said briskly, appearing out of nowhere like he tended to do, “you’re bleeding, and you’ve struck your head. You’re a liability right now. You need to go below.”

She glared at him, as did Snart. Mick likely would have, but he was too busy trying to keep the ship steady. She swallowed heavily, and for a miracle, managed to open her mouth without vomiting. “Mick, the ship is yours. Snart, you stay with him.” She looked up at Leonard. “I’ll be fine. You look after my ship and my crew.” She disentangled herself from his arms and staggered to the hatch.

* * *

Leonard slumped wearily into his and Sara’s cabin, as Martin was leaving. “How is she?” he asked quietly.

Martin sighed heavily. “I couldn’t stitch the wounds until we stopped pitching about, so I just finished. And I couldn’t give her anything for the pain, because of the blow to her head, but she’s strong.” The old man looked up at him kindly. “You know that, better than any of us. She’ll be fine. Try to get her to stay still and rest, but don’t let her sleep for too long at a time.”

Leonard nodded and shut the door. Sara lay on her stomach, with a sheet protecting her modesty. There was a wet rag on the back of her head. He inspected that first, thankful to see no blood. He refreshed it in the basin he’d brought with him and gently replaced it on her head.

Sara slitted her eyes open. “What’re you up to?”

“Returning a favor,” Leonard replied, dampening a bit of linen in water that smelt of roses, and applying it gently to her back.

“Where’d you get rosewater?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Well, I’d been saving it for Christmastide,” he admitted. He dabbed around the fresh stitches as carefully as he could, hating it when Sara hissed in pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to her spine. “There doesn’t really seem to be any good way to wrap these.”

“I know. It’s fine. The ship?”

"Also fine. A bit of water in the bilges, but Jefferson is working the pump. Hunter is helping."

Sara sniggered a bit at that.

“Do you want a shirt?” Leonard asked.

Sara blinked up at him with a lazy smile. “Do I?”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he chided, pressing gently on her shoulder when she moved to raise herself up.

“Mmm…why don‘t you rest with me?”

Leonard chuckled softly, then turned his attention to Sara’s hair. He carefully untied her braid, and worked the strands loose with his fingers before reaching for her silver-backed hairbrush.

“I hope you didn’t hurt Hunter.”

“I was tempted, believe me.”

“He was right.”

This time, Sara did succeed in pushing herself up on one elbow, and Leonard was hard-pressed to keep his focus on her face, instead of other, more interesting things.

“You couldn’t see past you and me,” Sara said gently. “Someone needed to put the ship first.”

“That’s why you left Mick in charge.”

“Yes.”

Leonard looked down, then glanced up at her through his eyelashes. “I’m a selfish, greedy thief.”

Sara grinned. “Yeah, but you’re my selfish, greedy thief.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Leonard was wondering how far they could stretch Martin's definition of 'staying still and resting,' when Sara shoved a hand against his chest with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Dry clothes, or no clothes.”

* * *

Mick elbowed Snart good-naturedly a day or so later. “Ain‘t that your shirt?“

“Yep.”

“Looks better on Sara than you.”

The words only drew a lazy smile.  “Most things do. Beside, it’s loose on her, so it doesn’t bind against her stitches.”

“She doing OK?”

“Yeah." Leonard shrugged, watching the captain cross the deck from where he and his friend were leaning against the rail. "She’s after Martin to take the stitches out. I want to speak to him about that…I don’t want her trying to do it herself.”

Mick shrugged. “She knows how.”

“I know she does - she took out mine. But hers are on her back.”

“That’s our cap’n.” Mick cast a side-wise glance at his old friend. “I’m kinda surprised at you.”

“How so?”

“Never really known you to care for much of anyone besides Lisa, and here you are, on some damn fool crusade to save the world.”

“You told me once that you’d follow Sara into hell. She seems to have that effect on people.” He looked out at the water and smiled, a peculiarly gentle expression that few ever saw on his face. “I’ve been around some bad people in my life, but Darhk…he’s a whole other level of evil. Anything he wants so badly can’t be good. I want my sister and her children to have a better life than me. I don’t want her to ever have to worry about the likes of him.”

* * *

Sara watched Courtney sparring with Jefferson, idly flipping a knife in her hands, and calling out occasional corrections. Frustration at not being able to join in made her tone sharper than usual. She just wanted the damn stitches out so she could get back to the business of running her ship, without someone running to take away whatever she‘d just picked up. To his credit, Leonard restrained himself rather well, at least in front of others. The last thing she needed was for her crew to think she required the approval of her…whatever exactly she and Leonard were to each other.

The bout ended with Jefferson receiving a sharp crack across his knuckles. He went below, shaking out his hand, and Courtney came over to collect her mug of water.

“Are we nearly there?” she asked quietly.

“Almost. Ile Amsterdam can be a bit tricky to find. It’s quite literally in the middle of the Indian Ocean. I’m sorry,” Sara added, almost under her breath.

“Don’t be. I chose this, knowing how it would end. I’ll die here, alone, but the world will be a safer place for it.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“I think you do. Maybe not in a mission, but in people - these people on this ship. And they have faith in you. Especially him.” Courtney nodded towards where Leonard was repairing a fishing net, casually positioned so he could watch Sara, but still deny it if she happened to call him out.

Sara glanced over at him, then quickly looked away.

“That man loves you. You know that, don’t you?” Courtney said firmly.

“People like me don’t get to have things like love,” Sara muttered.

“I don’t pretend to know the paths that you have walked, but I know what I see.” The other woman collected her belongings, then turned back to Sara. “This life can be hard, and it can end very suddenly. Don’t throw away a chance at happiness because you think you don’t deserve it. You do.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because everyone deserves to be loved. Everyone. Even a pirate captain and a jewel thief.” With that, Courtney went below.

Sara smiled at that, wondering who’d been telling tales. Her gaze strayed back to the jewel thief in question, idly observing those long, clever fingers of his knotting the net together. She supposed it was a bit foolish to deny that they were lovers, but were they, in fact, in love? Did she even really know what that was? With a sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head rest against the wall.

* * *

“The captain really should be resting,” Martin fretted.

“Uh huh,” Mick grunted. “And who’s gonna tell her that?”

Both men turned to look at Snart expectantly. He raised his hands and backed away a step. “Oh, no. If I say something like that, I’m being a -”

“Concerned gentleman?” Martin asked lightly.

Snart glared at him.

“Fine,” Mick huffed. “I’ll do it.” He poked a finger at Snart. “You take the wheel.”

“Me?”

“You’ve been studying everything about this ship since you came aboard. You know enough to manage for a few minutes. Jefferson will keep an eye on you.”

"Yes, Mister Rory," the younger man replied, moving to a spot with a clear view of the tiller.

* * *

Sara woke in her cabin and looked around groggily. “How the hell did I get down here?” she mumbled.

“Mister Rory brought you,” Sin piped up. The girl was curled at Sara’s feet with a book. 

Sara relaxed slightly at that. The idea that someone had picked her up and carried her without her knowledge was more than a little terrifying, but she’d trust Mick with her life, and she suspected she’d somehow recognized him, even asleep.

“He said you needed to rest or you’d catch a fever.”

“I’m not going to catch a fever,” Sara replied automatically.

“My mum died of a fever,” Sin said in a small voice.

Sara sighed and sat up, arranging a pillow behind her back. “What are you reading?”

“One of Master Snart’s poetry books. They’re pretty, but they sound nicer when he reads them.”

Sara frowned, recalling that one, at least, of the books Leonard liked to read to her was not at all suitable for young eyes. She relaxed as her fingers encountered that particular poetry book safely tucked under the mattress.

“Come here. Let’s take a look at that.”

* * *

Eventually, Sin left to help with dinner preparations, and shortly thereafter, Leonard wandered in with a mug of hot, sweet tea. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” Sara replied automatically, then seeing the look in his eyes, added, “I’m just a bit sore and tired, that’s all. I’ve had worse.” She reached for the mug and took an appreciative sip. “So, Sin said Mick brought me down here.”

“That’s right,” he said evenly. But there was just a little something else there in his tone, something not quite upset, but...resigned.

Sara quirked an eyebrow at that, and waited.

Snart sighed and continued, “Look, Mick is your first mate. If he does something like that, he’s acting in the best interest of the ship and crew. If I do, I’m being an overprotective…paramour…or something. I know how much you value your independence. It’s just - all my life, the only people I’ve really cared about are Mick and Lisa. I just - I don’t know how to do this! Hell, I don’t even know how to talk about it. I care about you, Sara, and I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

He looked down, until Sara reached out and caught his hand. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say about your feelings for anyone but Lisa. If it’s any consolation, I don’t know how to do this either, but I know I want it, with you, so…we’ll figure it out, together?”

She smiled, and tugged on Leonard’s hand. He returned the smile, and leaned down to kiss her, tasting honey and tea on her lips. They broke apart as Nate, having long since learned his lesson, pounded loudly on the closed door and announced that they’d sighted an island.

* * *

“So this is it,” Courtney said, staring resolutely at the small island that was - quite literally - in the middle of nowhere.

The Canary’s crew was busy loading a longboat with tools and supplies. Sara had taken a break to come stand next to the woman who'd become almost a friend, gazing with her at the tiny speck of land that would be home...and most likely, final resting place.

“Are you sure about this?” Sara asked one last time.

“I am,” Courtney assured her. “Thank you for your part in this. I know you don’t entirely agree with Captain Hunter, but this mission is very important.”

“Take care of yourself,” Sara said, impulsively hugging the other woman.

“I will. You do the same. And remember what we discussed.” Courtney’s glance slipped to Snart, who was never very far away, and her usual detached expression slipped into the tiniest bit of a smirk. She carefully schooled her features as Hunter stepped over for a rather formal handshake.

“I’ll miss her,” Sara murmured to Snart as they watched Jefferson row Courtney toward the beach.

“If anyone has a chance out here alone, I’d say it’s her,” Snart replied, trying to offer a bit of comfort without sounding too maudlin. Courtney was easily the most tolerable - and capable - of the three guests they'd had, and he was sorry to see her go.

“Pretty lady!” the parrot announced from its perch in the rigging.

“Did you teach it to say that?” Sara demanded in exasperation.

“Not me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Batavia, Winter 1692**

“This is your last chance, Captain Hunter,” Sara said quietly, as she watched Mick supervising the reprovisioning of the ship.

“That was never an option, Captain,” he replied, with equal gravity.

“I don’t know if I could have done what you and your crew did,” Sara admitted with admiration.

“None of us knows what we are truly capable of, until we’re faced with it. But I suspect you would have risen to the occasion.” Hunter looked out to sea, then back to face Sara. “I may have…jumped to some conclusions about you, and your crew. I’d like to apologize. My mission would have been doomed without your assistance.”

“Apology accepted.”

* * *

However important and serious the job of the captain, there came a time when Sara'd overseen all she could possibly oversee, especially as she trusted her people to do their jobs well. Then, with a contented sigh, she finally allowed herself to do what she'd been thinking of since they'd arrived. 

“Fancy a stroll through this last outpost of civilization?” she asked, holding out her hand to Leonard and waggling her fingers in invitation.

“Why not?” he drawled, taking her hand and drawing it through his arm. They left the docks and wandered through the commercial enclave, purchasing a few small treats for Christmastide. Sara found a beautifully illustrated edition of _Aesop's_ _Fables_ for Sin. Leonard purchased something that he insisted on hiding in the pocket of his faded blue wool coat. Laughing, they eventually turned their steps back toward the ship, feeding each other bits of sweet chocolate and trading sweeter kisses.

And then Sara heard a shockingly familiar voice, and she grabbed Leonard and dragged him behind a stack of crates. They crouched down, out of sight, as two black-clad figures moved into view, speaking.

“It was her!” a heavily accented male voice insisted. “I saw Ta-er al-sahfer.”

“Did you, really?” an elegant female voice replied. “I saw a woman cavorting with her lover, nothing more. If you feel the need to disturb my father with such hearsay, you’re far braver than I.”

She spoke again, in a language Leonard didn’t comprehend. The woman and her companion departed. He did understand when Sara exhaled heavily, and sagged against him.

“Was that…Nyssa?” he muttered, just barely audible.

“Yeah.” Sara's voice was odd, one part numb and one part disbelieving. As if she simply couldn't believe what she'd heard.

“She didn’t betray you.”

“No,” Sara said wonderingly, “she didn’t.”

“What was she saying?”

“She was reminding her associate that their mission was to hunt down Damien Darhk.”

Snart sighed. “Great. So we’ve got him to worry about, too.”

* * *

“Time to go, Mick!” Sara announced as they clambered back aboard the Canary.

The big man raised an eyebrow, but he didn't question or comment, beyond a simple “Aye, Cap’n.” The rest of the crew moved quickly to set sail, having been through this scenario before.

“At this hour?” Hunter asked mildly from where he'd emerged from below decks.

“Yes,” Snart told him firmly, squeezing Sara's hand before letting go so she could get to work.

Hunter shook his head. “Why do I feel as though I’m missing something?” he wondered.

Sara glanced at Snart, then left him to deal with their passenger while she conferred with Mick.

“There are people in port looking for Damien Darhk,” Snart said, deciding on an abbreviated explanation. “I think that’s incentive enough to be on our way.”

“All right,” Hunter agreed, even though he obviously sensed that there was more going on.

 But he didn't ask. And Snart didn't offer.

* * *

**The South Pacific**

Hunter accepted a bowl of stew from Jefferson and slid into a seat at the table. “Have you decided yet where to drop me off?” he asked, directing his question to Sara, who was seated across from him, nursing a cup of jasmine tea. She shrugged, taking another sip.

“Not entirely,” Sara admitted. “There are so many islands out there, some not even on charts. I think it might be best, for all of us, if we just pick one at random.”

“If you don’t know exactly where you left me, you can never be forced to reveal that information,” Hunter agreed.

"How cheerful," Martin observed drily, shaking his head from where he'd been reading at the other end of the table. 

They both ignored him. 

* * *

Mick had the parrot perched on one hand and a piece of fruit in the other, coincidentally pointed at Amaya. “Come on, bird, ‘pretty lady,’ ” he coaxed.

The bird turned in the opposite direction and obediently repeated "pretty lady!"

There was a muffled giggle behind him, and Mick turned, flushing a brighter red than usual when he saw Sara standing there.

“So it’s you.”

“Yeah.” Mick admitted, crestfallen. “Didn’t quite work out the way I planned.”

“You could just tell her she’s pretty, you know.”

“I s’pose. It’s just…Snart reads you all them poems and things." He shrugged. "I wanted to do something like that. Something sorta special.”

“You’re not Snart,” Sara reminded him gently. “You’re Mick. I like you just as you are, and I rather suspect Amaya does, too. You do recall what she did to the last fellow who tried to press his attentions?”

Mick chortled at the memory. “I don’t imagine he’s stopped running yet.”

“Well, then. I think you’d know by now if she didn’t want you around.” She smiled a little, almost to herself, then turned to go, pausing as she heard her friend's voice again.

“Sara?”

“Yeah, Mick?”

“Somethin' you should remember. Loving him - it don’t make you weak. It makes you stronger. It makes **_both_** of you stronger.”

For a moment, Sara didn’t know what to say. Then she grinned, turned the rest of the way and took a swift few steps to Mick. She grasped his face firmly in her hands and leaned over to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Mick Rory. Don’t you **_ever_** let me hear you say you don’t have brains. Or a heart!"

* * *

The next day, Mick walked out on deck into the early dawn light, tin mug of bitter coffee clutched in his beefy hand. Nate and Jefferson immediately began clamoring for his attention.

“Report!” Mick barked, to cut off the babble.

“Mister Rory, we saw mermaids!” Jefferson told him. Nate nodded.

“Are you two drunk?” Mick demanded in a dangerous growl.

Sara had astonishing tolerance for a great many things, but drew a hard and fast line at behavior that endangered her ship. Drunkenness on watch figured pretty high on that list.

The two young men exchanged glances, then shook their heads negatively.

“No, sir,” Jefferson asserted.

“We saw them off the port bow!” Nate insisted. “Big tails with split fins, and they were talking!”

Mick looked at them over the rim of his mug. “Talking, eh?”

Both men nodded.

“We couldn’t understand it, but yeah,“ Nate answered.

Mick took another sip of his coffee, and tried to ignore the crowd that was slowly gathering to witness this nonsense.

“You saw dolphins.”

“No, Mister Rory, they weren’t fish!” Jefferson replied.

“Dolphins ain’t fish. They breath air.”

“Like whales?” Sin piped up.

The big man turned and smiled down at her. “That’s right. Like whales. And they whistle and chirp to each other, like talking.” He glanced slyly at Nate and Jefferson. “Besides ain’t mermaids supposed to have -” He made a rather suggestive gesture with his free hand. Sara shot him a look and spun Sin in the opposite direction.

Mick finally took pity on the two crestfallen young men. “Awright, yer relieved.”

Amaya stepped up beside him, smiling. “You remembered what I told you.”

“I like it when you tell me stuff,” he said gruffly. The smile she gave him back was warm and shining and...

Nearby, where they'd paused to listen, Snart shot Sara a gleeful smirk. “I don’t know Captain, but according to our…agreement, isn’t this the sort of behavior that’s meant to be kept below decks?”

“Why Master Snart, I do believe you’re correct.”

* * *

“Where are we, precisely?“ Hunter asked.

“Not sure, precisely. That was sort of the point, wasn’t it?“ Sara studied the island they were approaching, then passed her spyglass to Hunter.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“No signs of inhabitation,” he replied, carefully studying the small spit of land.

“The volcano might have something to do with that,” Snart observed dryly.

“Perhaps.”

“You know,” Sara began, “if you just wanted to toss your piece of the spear into the crater, we could still drop you somewhere -”

“I thank you, Captain Lance, truly, but I feel I’d dishonor the memories of all those who aided in this endeavor if I were to…take the easy way out, so to speak. I’m not entirely sure that even fire of that magnitude could truly destroy the spear, and so I will remain to guard it.” He returned Sara’s glass, then turned and went below.

Snart shook his head. “Just make sure he’s got a bullet or a knife, in case that mountain blows its top.”

“I can’t decide if he’s the bravest man I’ve ever met -”

“Or the craziest?”

Sara just shook her head. 

But later, as they sailed away from the island, watching the tiny figure recede in the distance, she shook her head again. 

"Definitely," she sighed, "the craziest."  

* * *

The best thing about the plethora of uncharted, uninhabited islands in the South Pacific was just that: there always seemed to be another on the horizon. After their adventure with Captain Hunter, Sara figured her crew was entitled to a bit of down time, and this particular island seemed ideal. Fresh water and exotic fruit; clear pools for bathing and laundry; and lots of new birds and fish for Martin to sketch in his journals. She also hoped that the isolated location would give them a breather from the League.

She had other hopes, too. 

***

Snart followed the path that Sin and Amaya had indicated, finally emerging at a crystal blue pool fed by a sparkling waterfall. The area was lush with greenery and tropical flowers, but all that paled in comparison with the sight of Sara Lance, standing waist deep in the water and wearing nothing but an inviting smile.

She looked like a sea goddess or a water nymph or…

Bad poetry escaped Leonard’s mind as Sara laughed and extended her hand to him. Skillful fingers that could pick any lock were suddenly challenged by buttons as he struggled to divest himself of his clothing. Finally, he waded out into the water to join her

“Mick said you wanted to see me,” he managed, in an amazingly even tone.

“Mmm…I did,” Sara replied, eyeing him boldly. She noticed something clenched in his hand. “What’s that?” she asked playfully.

Slowly, Leonard uncurled his fingers and extended his hand to her. Resting in his palm was a small ring. Nothing particularly impressive or shiny; just a thin band of raised stars. “This is…the first thing I ever stole. It’s…hell, it’s not even silver, just pewter. I’ve carried it with me for years. I just…I wanted you to have it.”

Sara tipped her head to one side inquisitively. “Leonard, are you…?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think we’re…quite those type of people. I just…it‘s got writing on the inside…‘Many are the stars I see but in my eye no star like thee.’ All the years I‘ve carried it with me, well…I think I was waiting to give it to you.”

Sara surged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. He managed - barely - to keep them upright. After a long moment, she pulled back slightly, and held out her hand.

After some laughter, they determined that the ring fit neatly on her index finger. Sara held up her hand, admiring it.

"Why'd you steal something so little?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know," he said, thoughtfully. "It just caught my eye."

"And?"

"And it was the only thing I could grab when we heard the constable coming."

Sara pressed her lips together firmly, but couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up as she looped her arms around his neck again. “The great Leonard Snart didn’t have a plan?”

His usual smirk was tinged with fond exasperation. **_“Of course_** I had a plan. Took me weeks. Everything was carefully mapped out and timed. It just didn’t take into account the chief constable falling from his horse at the start of the watch and his deputies sort of making things up for the rest of the night. I kept the ring to remind myself that things don’t always go according to plan.”

Sara fluttered kisses across his collarbone, then looked up at him through her eyelashes. “And me?” she prompted.

“Hmm?” Leonard was becoming increasingly distracted by the feel of her body against his.

“Did your plans include me?”

“Certainly. My plan for **_that_** heist was flawless.”

“Except for the part about getting shipwrecked in a storm. Nobody plans on that.”

“And how do you know that wasn‘t my plan all along - get rescued by a beautiful lady pirate…fall in love…” As he spoke, Leonard maneuvered them to a smooth rock and boosted Sara up, putting her at the perfect height for kissing...amongst other things.

Sara cuffed him on the shoulder. “I don’t know how you manage to say half the things you do with a straight face.”

Leonard stilled, then gently lifted the hand that was wearing his ring. “Never doubt that I love you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. “And this…this can be a reminder that all my plans for the future include you. All right?”

Sara nodded, then sealed her lips to his.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering, the locations are real. Port Royal, Jamaica was destroyed in an earthquake in June 1692. Alikdjuak Island is located off the east coast of Baffin Island...you have to zoom WAY in to realize that it's a separate land mass, not a peninsula. Ile Amsterdam is a pin dot in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Seriously zoom the map. Batavia was the name for Jakarta when it was a Dutch colony.


End file.
